Chapter Text
In order to earn extra money, Xie Zheng reopened his late parents' butcher shop. To his utter shock, his first day was a resounding success. The storefront was packed, and the local women seemed unusually eager to buy pork today. He hadn't expected to sell out so quickly.
As he wrapped up the last portion, Ms. Lin from the noodle shop walked by, mumbling loudly about "girls these days chasing after the new butcher guy," while a rival merchant rambled in the distance about how "good looks aren't everything in business." Xie Zheng merely wiped down his block, a bittersweet memory flashing through his mind. His father used to joke that Xie Zheng's sharp face would come in handy for pulling in customers, and his mother would always chuckle and swat his arm. Whatever the reason, if his face helped run the business and kept them afloat, he would use it.
He was about to clean up the workspace when Mr. Zhao arrived in a breathless haste, slamming the door open.
"Xie Zheng! It's your uncle!" Mr. Zhao panted, clutching his chest. "He has arrived at your house with Jin Yuanbao and his brothers! They're petty criminals and debt collectors. Your uncle is trying to pay off his gambling debts using the title deed of your family's house!"
Fury erupted in Xie Zheng’s chest. The grief he had been suppressing for a month sharpened into lethal anger. He snatched his heavy butcher knives from the counter, his grip turning his knuckles white.
"I am gonna kill them all," he growled, rushing past the old man.
"Xie Zheng, no! Wait!" Mr. Zhao screamed, running after him and shouting that he shouldn't do something so reckless, but Xie Zheng was already a blur of rage tearing through the village paths.
From the second-floor window of the house, Changyu stood silently, her dark eyes watching the entire chaotic scene unfold below.
Xie Zheng stormed back into his courtyard in a fury and slammed the door open. Inside, his uncle was groveling, pinned down against the wooden table by Jin Yuanbao and three of his burly, scarred brothers.
"Ah, you have arrived, Mr. Xie," Jin Yuanbao sneered, looking up with a greasy smile. "Your uncle here owes us a massive debt, and we’re here to collect. If we don’t get it, we are going to cut off your uncle’s hand right now." To emphasize his point, Jin Yuanbao slammed a rusted dagger onto the table, pinning his uncle's trembling hand flat.
Xie Zheng’s face remained completely indifferent. Without missing a beat, he raised his arm and forcefully threw his own heavy meat cleaver. It embedded itself an inch deep into the wood, right next to the thug's hand, vibrating with a terrifying thud.
"Here," Xie Zheng said, his voice deadpan and icy. "Use this. It’s sharper. It will make it fast."
The entire gang choked, utterly startled by his absolute lack of fear or familial piety.
"Xie Zheng!" his uncle shrieked, his face pale with terror. "What kind of behavior is this?! Have you truly become a heartless bastard? You're not sane! You're mad!"
"Why should I care?" Xie Zheng replied, stepping forward, his eyes boring into them. "This is your debt. Why should I pay a single copper for your vices?"
His uncle, desperate to shift the blame, pointed a shaking finger at him. "You don’t have any right to this business anyway! You're a heartless killer, not fit to run a family stall! Sooner or later, this house will be mine!" He turned to the thugs, shouting, "Search the place! Search for the title deed!"
Xie Zheng’s blood officially boiled over. Hearing his late parents' legacy threatened by the man who had abandoned them was the final straw. He didn't wait for them to move. Xie Zheng lunged forward, using his massive size and raw strength to tackle the first thug. He grabbed a heavy wooden stool, smashing it across another brother's chest, and handled the gangsters himself with brutal, unrefined efficiency. Realizing they had underestimated the "mad butcher," Jin Yuanbao and his battered brothers dragged the uncle out, cursing and swearing revenge as they fled into the streets.
As Xie Zheng stood breathing heavily in the wrecked room, Gongsun Yin and Constable Wang arrived through the open door.
Constable Wang, a tired old friend of the Xie family, sighed heavily as he looked at the overturned furniture. He looked at Xie Zheng with genuine pity. "Xie Zheng... because your father has passed away, your uncle has officially filed a petition with the magistrate claiming you are mentally unfit to run the business. He wants the court to strip you of the property."
Gongsun Yin stepped forward, his eyes scanning the alleyway outside. "Xie Zheng, today’s incident... I bet it was a trap. Your uncle probably planned this whole thing just to get witnesses to prove you're a violent, unstable madman."
Xie Zheng didn't answer. The weight of his world felt crushing. He walked away from them, stepping into the quiet back room where his parents' memorial tablets sat. He lit three sticks of incense, bowing his head in the dim light.
A soft rustle of silk sounded behind him. Changyu had come downstairs, her steps silent, her bandaged shoulder slightly stiff. She stood beside him, looking at the two wooden tablets.
"They worked so hard for this business," Xie Zheng whispered, his voice thick with a raw, rare vulnerability. "For this family. I won’t allow my uncle to take it away. I'll die before I let him touch what they built."
Changyu gazed at the tablets, a deep, ancient sorrow reflecting in her own eyes. "Parents give everything to anchor their children," she murmured softly, her thoughts drifting to the bloody betrayal in the Capital.
Xie Zheng turned his head to look at her. "What about your parents? What happened to them?"
Changyu paused for a long, heavy moment. The ghosts of an army, a battlefield, and an imperial massacre flashed through her mind. "They died in the war," she said quietly, shielding the dangerous truth of her lineage.
Later that evening, Mr. and Mrs. Zhao sat in the kitchen with Xie Zheng and Gongsun Yin, racking their brains. Suddenly, the elderly couple looked at each other, coming up with a solution.
"Xie Zheng," Mrs. Zhao said brightly. "There is a way to keep the house and the business. You need to get married."
Xie Zheng instantly choked on his tea, his face flushing bright red. "Nonsense! I am not going to marry! I have enough problems!"
Mrs. Zhao slapped the table, stopping him firmly. "Xie Zheng, listen to me! It is the easiest, most airtight solution. If you take a wife, it opens the legal possibility for an heir, and it proves to the village elders and the magistrate that you are a stable, responsible head of a household. Your uncle won't have a leg to stand on."
Xie Zheng let out a long, exhausted sigh, rubbing his face. "And which woman in her right mind would willingly marry a mad, penniless butcher?"
The room went quiet. Gongsun Yin leaned forward, a sly smirk spreading across his face. "What about the lady upstairs? The one you saved. You are her benefactor, Xie Zheng. She probably won’t refuse."
Xie Zheng immediately glared at him, his temper flaring. "What do you think of me as?! Am I supposed to go up there and demand she pay me back with her hand in marriage just because I saved her life?!" He spoke furiously, his pride deeply stung. His parents had taught him compassion, not asking for paybacks from vulnerable people.
Mrs. Zhao gently patted his arm, trying to calm him down. "Xie Zheng, listen. We are not telling you to do anything shameful like that. Look at the reality: that poor girl was attacked by bandits, she lost her parents, and she has absolutely nowhere else to go. If you ask her honestly, maybe she will want to help you, too."
"And why would she ever say yes?" Xie Zheng muttered, looking down at his rough hands.
Mrs. Zhao scoffed, gesturing to his face. "What do you mean, why? Getting a good-looking, protective husband like you? Why on earth would she refuse? And if you treat her right, she will see your good heart."
Xie Zheng was momentarily shocked by the blunt compliment, his jaw going slightly slack. Beside him, Gongsun Yin turned his head, desperately trying to hide a loud chuckle.
Xie Zheng didn't reply for a long time. Finally, he looked at his parents' tablets in the distance and muttered, "I... I will try to talk to her."
The next afternoon, Xie Zheng attempted to find the courage to talk to Changyu, but every time he approached the staircase, his throat went completely dry. Feeling ridiculous, he marched out to the back pens to feed the livestock. Standing in front of one of his largest pigs, he cleared his throat, holding a wooden bucket.
"Listen," Xie Zheng pointed a finger at the pig, his voice stiff. "The situation is like this. My uncle is a snake. I need a wife to keep the shop. You're a woman—er, a lady—with no home. So... do you want to marry me? I have pork."
The pig merely grunted and went back to eating.
Unbeknownst to him, Changyu was standing by the open second-floor window directly above, watching the entire absurd scene. A tiny, incredibly rare amusement softened her icy features as she watched the massive, terrifying butcher nervously practicing a marriage proposal to a farm animal.
A few hours later, the sky grew dark. Xie Zheng brought a bowl of warm, steaming herb soup up to her room, his heart hammering against his ribs. He set the bowl down on the bedside table, refusing to meet her eyes.
"You should drink this. It's good for your shoulder," he said gruffly, turning to leave.
"I will marry you," Changyu said calmly.
Xie Zheng froze in his tracks, nearly tripping over his own boots. He spun around, his eyes wide with utter shock. "You... you heard me downstairs?"
Changyu looked up at him, her expression serene but completely serious. "I did. You need a wife to secure your family's legacy. I need a quiet place to recover without drawing attention. A marriage serves both our strategic purposes."
Xie Zheng swallowed hard. The nervousness melted away, replaced by a deep, solemn sincerity. He walked back to the edge of her bed, his large frame towering over her, but his posture was deeply respectful.
"If you agree..." Xie Zheng said softly, his voice steady and earnest. "I promise I will take care of you. I will give you the proper respect and honor you deserve as my wife. I won't let anyone hurt you." He paused, looking into her dark, unreadable eyes. "Are you truly okay with marrying me? I am just a village butcher."
Changyu looked at his calloused hands, then up at his honest, handsome face. For a woman who had known only war and betrayal, this simple, fierce protection felt like a fortress.
"I am certain," Changyu replied quietly, offering him a small nod. "Let us get married, Husband."